Terrible People
by Lammy
Summary: AI angst. One shot. Izzie and Alex both try to cope the night that Denny dies. Better than it sounds?


Author: Lammy

Disclaimer: Can't think of anything witty, so I'll just come out and say that they're not mine.

A/N: Well, I've been in a bit of a spin ever since the finale, especially regarding everyone's (or at the very least my) favorite couple, Alex and Izzie. The idea for this fic has been in my head for a couple of weeks, but it's pretty angsty, and I'm not sure I can do it justice. If it sucks, you have my deepest apologies. It's just…everyone seems to assume that A/I will get back together, and while I'm sure that they will, it's not like it could happen right away, you know? Hmmm…

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Terrible People

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"I'm a terrible person."

Isabelle Steven's voice breaks the silence that has fallen over the past few minutes. It comes out sounding bored, like this sentence has been spoken hundreds of times before in this night that seems like it will never end. She lies with her head pushed against the headboard of her bed, her hair that had been done so beautifully for HIM has been reduced to wild strains falling haphazardly across her face. Absentmindedly she strokes her temple and stares at the ceiling and nothing at the same time.

"No, you're not."

Alex Karev's voice shares the exact same tone of repetition. His head is at the foot of the bed, his tuxedo jacket slung over the overstuffed chair that sits at the opposite end of the room. He hadn't truly expected to be let into the room when he had knocked softly, and in his surprise at her wordlessly opening the door and walking away, he had hurriedly gotten rid of it. Even now, he wasn't quite sure why she had let him in, especially since both Meredith and George had tried before him. He wasn't sure what was going on in her mind, because the only thing she had said since they got home was the same sentence that she had echoed just a moment ago.

"Yes, I am. I'm a terrible person because he died, and I let him. I wanted to look good, even though I knew he didn't really care about my looks. I wanted to be beautiful, and I let him die. I killed him."

She says it so simply and he believes without a shadow of a doubt that she's convinced of every word. Alex can't understand how she can think those terrible things about herself. He aches to make all of her pain go away, but has no idea where to start. He has no idea what to say. Still, it was clear that she had chosen him to talk to on this night when she needs someone the most, and he knows that he needs to do his best to say something…anything…to make it just the littlest bit better.

"Come on, Izzie, you know that that's crazy. You didn't kill Denny. You lo…loved him." He pauses, as they both attempt to ignore the difficulty he has of talking about her with another man. "You are a good person. One of the best that I have ever met. Please, please believe that. Denny knew that you would never hurt him on purpose, sometimes these things just happen. You couldn't possibly foresee every single angle. This is not you fault."

Izzie closes her eyes and tries to let Alex's words wash over her, but all she feels is empty. She thinks that she should be crying. It's normal to cry when your fiancée dies. Most people cry for days and days, but she had quieted soon after they had taken the body – Denny – away. Now, there is no emotion left in her, nothing but blackness.

"No, you're wrong. I'm a terrible person." She insists, and the conversation ends.

Silence slowly settles on them again. They lay alone in the dark, just the two of them, with enough room between them for a third person. She imagines Denny lying beside her in that space and feels a little better. She can hear people talking in soft voices outside of the bedroom door, and tries her hardest to forget the fact that there is a world outside of her bedroom. A world without Denny, or laughter, or scrabble games. A world that will be far too real in the morning.

Alex fidgets slightly in the darkness.

"Izzie, I'm a terrible person, too. All of those jokes that I made…those horrible comments about him…about…I'm sorry. I didn't really mean them. I was just so angry at all of us. I was just so angry…"

He talks himself into an embarrassed silence and feels worse instead of better for having brought that up. It's impossible to gauge her reaction to his words, because the room is so dark that he can't see anything. All he can do is wait for her to talk. All he can ever do with her is wait.

She's not sure what to say to that, not sure that she entirely forgives him, so she doesn't say anything. Blindly, she reaches into the space between them, the space that she had mentally reserved for Denny, and grabs Alex's hand. She feels him squeeze it, and that small human contact, that tiny sign of support, is what brings all of the emotions flooding back. She starts laughing, at Alex, and herself, at the entire situation. And then she is crying, and it's hysterical, and she can't breathe. She cries for the young man whom she had loved who had his life taken from him, and for the life that was taken from her as well. The promises of tomorrow that she hadn't even had a day to contemplate before they were stolen.

And then she cries because she is selfish enough to care about her loss when she is still alive. She is still here, and Denny isn't, and that makes her a terrible person.

Alex crawls up and takes her in his arms. He's never heard anyone cry like this, and he thinks that he would run away from the raw emotion if it had been anyone but Izzie. Since it is Izzie, all he can do is hold her and rock back and forth, whispering ineffectual words into her ear.

Through the blind despair, Izzie hears his words and feels his arms around her. She clings to him and twists around so that she can rest her head in the crook of his shoulder and cry and cry. Their closeness registers in her mind and out of nowhere she recognizes the fact that he has changed shampoos.

It's a ridiculous thing to notice, and she barks out a laugh through her tears. But at the same time, the fact that he has changed shampoo bothers her. It shows that a true distance has grown between them. She can remember smelling traces of the old shampoo during the nights that they would spend together. In between what they grew to call "feeding the beast," they would have whispered conversations of past dreams and future hopes. He knew that she had desperately wanted to be a ballerina when she was younger, and she knew his ultra-secret alter ego that he had created for when he had dreamed of joining the WWF. All of the happy memories that she had shared with Alex came rushing back to her, memories that she had tried desperately to forget while with Denny. She remembers how easy it was to be with him. Suddenly she hates his new shampoo.

She's stopped crying, and he tries to ease out of the embrace, because being this close to her still makes his head spin a little bit. As he begins to back away, she clings tighter to him, pulling him back to her. He's not sure what's going on anymore and wonders when the situation spun out of control.

Slowly, she pulls back enough to look at his face. Her eyes have adjusted to the dark better than his, and she can see a quizzical smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. She shivers slightly as she remembers that mouth all over her, and it feels so good to be in someone's arms again and to forget about Denny for a small moment. Without really thinking, she leans forward and kisses those smirking lips.

Alex is beyond being surprised or confused, and begins to feel the first signs of panic. He tries to pull back, but her mouth insistently follows him.

"Izzie! Stop it, come on. You don't want to do this. You've just lost Denny. You don't know what you're doing."

She laughs a little as she continues to pursue him. "Please, Alex, you've never been good at turning me down." She begins to panic herself when she realizes that she might not be able to get the chance to forget about Denny that she so desperately craves. If she doesn't forget soon, it will make it real. "Please." The word has taken on a whole knew meaning.

Still, he tries to resist. He tries and almost succeeds. It isn't until she pulls back and looks up at him with unshed tears in her eyes, and her small voice begs softly once again, "Please," that he stops fighting it.

Her lips meet his again with more urgency this time. Every second the kiss grown harder and harder, as though she's trying to escape something through the process. He gives a wet trail of kisses down her neck, and she leans her head back for better access. The world tips a little, and she's lying down again with his familiar weight on top of her.

Their kiss becomes more and more violent. Izzie begins to lose sight of the fact that she's doing this to forget about Denny and begins to do it for herself. For the way he always makes her moan when his fingers skim right there, or the sound he makes when she kisses that spot on his neck.

She moans his name, cries it over and over again…

"Alex…Alex…"

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Isabelle Steven sits up with a jerk. She is tangled in her bed sheets and her forehead has broken out with a cold sweat. Confused and disoriented, she looks around frantically.

She can still feel his lips on her, still taste his name, but it doesn't make sense because he's slumped on her chair by the doorway and sleeping soundly. Meredith is lying next to her, and George's crumpled frame is barely visible on the floor.

"It was all a dream." She whispers to herself, all at once relieved and horrified. A sob escapes her throat. Who was she? How could she even think those things? Denny wasn't even dead for a night and she was dreaming about another person?

Her sobs echo in the room. Meredith sits up and immediately rubs her back.

"Izzie, what happened? Are you ok? Talk to us."

George and Alex are waking up, and Izzie knows that she can't look at him.

"Get him out of here. Get him out!" Her voice is low and dangerous. The three of them look around as if they don't know what she's talking about. As if they can't see him all over her, like she can.

"Get him out!" She points a finger at Alex and she's screaming now. "Out! Out! Get him out!" She continues to yell and begins to rock back and forth. George begins pushing him out the door.

"What the hell?" Alex yells above her in confusion, but leaves anyway because, really, he can't stand to see her like this.

She doesn't stop screaming until Meredith yells at her that he's gone. Then the tears come, and she's sobbing hysterically just like in her dream.

Meredith and George rub her back soothingly and ask her what happened, but she ignores them and just repeats one sentence over and over.

"I'm a terrible person."

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Yeah, yeah, I'm not a big angst person. I go for comedy most of the time, but this was just a really good idea. I thought. If you liked it, review! If you didn't, shhhhhhh.

"One false move, baby/ suddenly everything's ruined." – Fountains of Wayne


End file.
